


the edge where the sea pours into the stars

by callistylo



Category: Riverdale (TV 2017)
Genre: (not really but shhhh), Archie Andrews Needs Support And Love And Appreciation, Archie Andrews Needs a Hug, Asexual Jughead Jones, Beaches, Bisexual Archie Andrews, First Kiss, Fluff and Angst, Hurt/Comfort, M/M, POV Jughead Jones, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Protective Jughead Jones, Road Trips, beware mentions of Grundy and archie's resulting trauma, i was gonna write jughead being not ace but i feel like im lying to myself so, in this house no one is straight, not gonna be any sexual content though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-03
Updated: 2017-09-17
Packaged: 2018-11-23 02:07:25
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 7
Words: 6,165
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11393139
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/callistylo/pseuds/callistylo
Summary: "But feeling is indelible, and longing infinite, a starburst compass pointing in all the directions two lovers might go, a fresh breeze swelling their sails, the future uncharted, still far from the edge where the sea pours into the stars."(the one where archie and jughead take their road trip at last, get the hell out of riverdale, and risk rekindling something old in someplace new)





	1. the first step of getting better is realizing there's a problem

**Author's Note:**

> this fic takes place after episode 12 so don't read it until you've finished the series unless you want spoilers. (although I'm very much ignoring the last ~5 minutes of the episode because fuck that scene, I'm repressing it. fred is fine).
> 
> as mentioned in the tags, Jughead isn't aro, bc while I love that characterization, I've written him that way before & I have an aroace Jughead askblog so we're trying something new. 
> 
> this'll be updated as much as possible so  
> buckle your seatbelts for this emotional journey and i'd appreciate constructive feedback.
> 
> come talk to me at vulspine.tumblr.com!

“Arch. C’mon. I can tell when you're drifting.” Jughead shook Archie's shoulder. “Come back to Earth.” As if he'd fallen asleep, Archie's head snapped up and his eyes narrowed to focus on Jughead's grimace. “What is wrong with you? You've been sleeping at night, you're eating, you're at school every day, then what's got you so fucked up?”

“Just -- I just didn't sleep well, let me -- uh --more drinks. Yeah. We're all out of Pepsi.” He plastered on an out-of-place grin and rushed to the kitchen, leaving Jughead to fall back onto the couch with an exasperated sigh. Of course Archie didn't want to talk about it. He never did. And of course Jughead would retaliate, today in the form of passively stretching his legs out across the couch (please let him notice) where Archie had carefully perched earlier at least a few feet away (please let him sit closer this time) as he had started doing in the hazy stretch of time between the cancelled road trip, the silver VW that started picking Archie up at ungodly times of the night, and Jughead's move into the Andrews home. 

Something had gone very wrong. Even if Jughead didn't know what happened, Archie was wound-up and closed-off. He still smiled -- because even at the end of the world, Archie Andrews could smile -- but it felt wrong.

As if on call, the golden boy shuffled back in carrying a 2-liter of Coke with an apologetic twist of the mouth. 

“It's all we had.”

“It's fine,” Jughead barely vocalized the words. 

Archie's smile fell from his face a little too quickly.

The tense silence between them gave way to a high pitched noise that made Jughead wonder if he was the only one hearing it. Archie started to say something, but the words died in his throat with a choking sound. He hadn't even set the bottle down.  
Then:

“You're taking up my spot.”

“What're you gonna do about it?” Jughead responded, an empty mockery of the way they used to tease each other. He risked a glance upwards and Archie's face was blank, eyes incredibly dark in their sockets. 

Another tense silence hung in the air until Archie, resigned, sat down on Jughead’s thighs. Something warm twisted in his stomach. 

He refused to meet Jughead's eyes. They slowly turned to face the TV. 

 

Lunch, made tense already after Jason's death as everyone felt it was too soon for jokes, was now reduced to the occasional short exchange between Betty and Jughead or Veronica. If they were lucky, Archie would laugh a little too late afterwards. The boys still walked to fourth period together afterwards, but Archie kept his two-foot distance. 

For the first time since freshman year, Mr. Hudson appeared to have called in a substitute, and a shittily attached piece of paper on the door had them rerouting back down the stairs to a first-floor classroom. 

Jughead, tuned into Spotify, was oblivious to their surroundings until Archie tripped over a crack in the tile. His eyes were fixed on a door, he hadn't seen the crack, but he'd stopped walking -- oh. A door with a recently removed nameplate. A room that Archie had spent hours after school in, now empty except for the instruments. Oh. No one had really talked to Archie about his “incident” after Grundy left. News spread fast and soon everyone had independently decided that it was taboo. Something had obviously gone down but no one wanted to actually bring it up. 

They thought that would be better that way, that he would get over it, but -- maybe he wasn't just fine dealing with it. Maybe she left behind more than just longing. Something darker. 

And now they were both staring off into space in the direction of her classroom. The schoolbell’s metallic screech brought Jughead out of his sickening realization and back into reality and he wrapped a hand around Archie's arm without thinking. 

“Hey, uh.” 

Archie whipped around and winced. Jughead slapped himself internally for coming off so harsh. 

“We're late... let's just go, okay?” This time it was softer, like maybe could tell Archie what he wanted to say, just in the tone of his voice he could tell him I'm so sorry I didn't want to leave you alone I want to help you're not alone, but he settled for leading him away from the door towards the end of the hallway and taking his hand back earlier than he would've liked. 

If this had been last year he could've trailed his fingers down the contour of his tricep, his forearm, his wrist. But this was now and everything was fucked. Archie didn't need something else to worry about. They would have to to actually talk about this, to both Jughead's amusement and dread.

He seemed even more spaced-out and distracted than usual. Normal Archie would never have spent several minutes blankly staring at desks to figure out where to sit in the shockingly new environment of an identical classroom to the rest of their school. All class, Jughead had to take notes on both of their papers and write Archie's name on his worksheet like he was comatose. Both Betty and Veronica had shot him identical worried glances, to which he mouthed “don’t ask” and left it at that. 

Soon enough, they were on the bus home, and in a stroke of brilliant carelessness Jughead leaned in the get Archie's attention.

“We should take that road trip now. There's so much going on here -- too much -- it could be just us, going anywhere we want -- we could take my dad's truck and you could drive -- let's just go. I want to get out of here more than anything but it won't be the same without you.”


	2. names of places we'd go together

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> prepare for -- that's right -- more angst. Jughead is trying his best. this is not a happy chapter.
> 
> come talk to me at vulspine.tumblr.com !

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm surprised by how many people like this! your feedback means the world to me, I'm lucky to have people who actually care about this little story.  
> chapter 3 is already done but I'm trying not to spam everyone with writing so it'll be up soon.

Archie glanced back and forth between Jughead’s eyes and his hands in his lap. 

“Why now?”

“Well, you cancelled on me this summer, so...you owe me one.” He exhaled quickly, not quite a laugh but a vague sarcastic noise. 

The sarcastic approach crashed and burned. 

“Right. But. Why?” Archie asked, panicked. “We're in school, we can't just leave. We've -- like -- we have to stay, don't we? As much as I'd like a vacation, there's no reason for it right now.”

“No reason? You're kidding, Arch. My dad is in jail, school is a clusterfuck of kids in mourning, and you're just -- you're not fine, okay?” 

“What are you talking about? Me and my dad are getting along, and yeah, your family stuff isn't great, but unless you're talking about my grades -- I've always been dumber than you -- I'm good. I'm great.” His twitchy smile came and went in the same breath. 

Jughead resisted the urge to smack his own head on the back of the seat in front of him. 

“You think I'm talking about your grades? That's the thing. You won't talk about whatever problem’s going on, but it's there. Something happened to you this summer and you're not all here anymore. We all left you alone -- we abandoned you -- and now you're just getting worse.” A pause. “I'm still here. You can't just ball this up inside you and expect it to be okay.”

Archie's eyes had fixated on a zipper on his bag and he was examining it with mechanical concentration. He was boxed in between the wall, the seat, and Jughead staring at him, and his course of action was to remain silent. 

“Hey, kids, time to go.” The bus driver was looking at them through the rear-view window. “This is the last stop. Everyone else left.”

“Shit -- okay -- “ Jughead snatched his bag and, louder, called out “Sorry!” They made their way down the aisle and both thanked the driver, trying to get off the bus as quickly as possible. 

“We're in the East Side.” Brownstone apartments sprouted around them, taller and older than the surrounding trees. 

“We sure are.” 

“Guess we're walking, then. My dad's still at work.”

The walk home could've gone two ways: either Archie would give in and open up about all his emotional turmoil, or they'd both be quiet and uncomfortable the whole way. Archie's denial chose the second option for him, so he worked on what could only have been achieving the 10,000-hour-rule of mastering his fake smile. Jughead was fed up after five minutes of watching it out of the corner of his eye and gestured in the general direction of Archie's face. 

“I don't like that.”

“What?” 

“What you're doing with your face right now. You're not happy, so just don't -- don't pretend with me.”

The atmosphere between them was tense and dangerous, threatening to let raindrops fall. 

“I can do this on my own, Jughead.”

“I'm trying to tell you...you don't have to. It's not working.”

“Let it go.”


	3. do i wanna know

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> warning you ahead of time for mentions of archie's relationship with grundy. nothing explicit. 
> 
> come find me at vulspine.tumblr.com

Headlights from cars outside streaked across the room.

 

“Did you ever imagine it?”

 

“Huh?” It wasn't the first time Archie had pretended to be asleep, but he still had never realized that Jughead could hear him moving around restlessly. 

 

“Our road trip, what it would've been like, y’know?” He let his question hang this time, dripping with the memory of their relationship and how it would've colored their time together.

_ We would've camped together and huddled together at night and you'd wake up in the morning and go for a run and come back to me, warm and sweaty and grinning, your mouth everywhere. _

 

“A couple times. Before that weekend, yeah. I was looking forward to it.”

 

Jughead inhaled deeply through his nose and prepared himself to ask what he'd been grasping at for months. 

 

“I know why you cancelled, but I didn't hear it from  _ you. _ Not really. I know you wanted to go, but she did something to you. What happened?”

 

The air crackled between them.

 

Archie sighed hard. “I thought it was gonna be fine. I just didn't think enough. You know, everyone talks about hooking up with teachers like it's the Holy Grail or something. Maybe that's what I was expecting...or maybe I liked that she wanted me, that she didn't think I was an idiot. She thought I had potential.” He laughed bitterly. “Bullshit. I should've known not to believe her.”

 

“Archie.” Jughead said plaintively. “ _ God _ , if I'd’ve known you thought so little of yourself--”

 

“That's not what I'm trying to get at, it's just...I thought I loved her and then she left, and now I think it's worse than that. I have -- I have problems that I didn't before.”

 

(Memories of restless sleep and waking up crying from dreams where his mother and father were trying to kill each other and him and he could only save one person. Losing time during classes and empty nights at home).

 

Maybe Archie's problems weren't so unfamiliar. 

 

Jughead waited. He couldn't risk interrupting this tenuous connection, allowed only by how the night seemed to keep secrets better than the day. Somehow Archie trusted it more, trusted  _ him _ more like this, and Jughead took what he could get. 

 

“I've known love...that wasn't it.”

 

They both knew what Archie meant. It was an offering.

 

“Not past tense. You  _ know  _ love. It's not gone.” 

 

An apology. 

 

Archie continued, voice shaky. “I shouldn't even be telling you this. It doesn’t matter. I’m gonna deal with it.”

 

As a kid, Jughead always had nightmares during sleepovers when he and Archie watched horror movies before bed. At some point, Archie had started reaching his hand down to Jughead, who held on for dear life and fell asleep faster every time. In an echo of something that had always comforted him, he reached up to Archie's bed and rested his fingertips on the edge of the mattress, hoping.

  
A second of hesitation passed before Archie's hand settled over his, gripped it, and then let go. They both relaxed just a little and rolled over to gaze at their respective walls. There was more to be said. Lots more. But Jughead's hope didn't seem as desperate anymore. 


	4. breathing lessons

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> is that some fluff I see? and a bunch of color references? and some actual coping mechanisms?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> as always, comments and feedback mean the world to me! I'm enjoying writing these boys more than I ever expected... it's getting kinda out of hand. 
> 
> come talk to me at vulspine.tumblr.com!

Vegas jumped on the air mattress next to Jughead, dipping it to the side and startling him awake. It would've been impossible for him to fall back asleep as it were, but Archie's shirtless back, putting muscles shifting like puzzle pieces in full view. It would've been distracting if there was anything else for him to think about except Archie. The weekend would give them some empty time to fill with talking about the past, as long as Archie didn't shut them down, as was his specialty. They'd had a real moment the night before, whether that was due to Archie trusting Jughead or just being worn down by his questions was unknown. 

 

Without checking his phone, it was obviously the early morning. The birds outside Archie's bedroom window were awake and screeching but the light was weak, pale blue; it hadn't warmed up to the day yet.  _ Me either _ , he thought, but resigned himself to pulling on his beanie and getting up. Maybe getting up this early could be useful for something: he could make some halfway decent pancakes to use as a bargaining chip with Archie. Who could resist their favorite food on a Saturday morning? (Even if it did come with a side of interpersonal communication.)

 

Not Archie, as it turns out. They shared the kitchen, now washed in yellow light like Archie had brought the sun with him, in the morning quiet. It felt closer to “old times” -- sometime before the last fourth of July -- than anything either of them could remember, and the fact that their silence was actually  _ comfortable _ only proved it. 

 

“How'd you sleep?”

 

Archie looked a little taken aback by the question, but he poked at his food with a fork and mumbled, “Good. Well -- the usual.”

 

“The usual?”

 

“Kinda shitty,” he confessed. “I wake up freaked out sometimes, don't know where I am, or I'm all out of breath like I just ran for my life.”

 

Jughead waited a few seconds, not wanting to seem eager that Archie was actually admitting what was wrong. “You know I'm right there, Arch. If there's anything I can do--”

 

Archie shook his head. “It's just something that happens, okay? You don't know why any more than I do.”

 

“Actually, I might. I'm not...in your position with all this, obviously, but when my family was having all those problems a while ago -- well, they've kind of been going on forever -- I'd get nightmares all the time. Waking up out of it, exhausted and freaked out and scared for your life; I've been through that. You feel like you can't get away from your memories for even a  _ second _ , they're with you all the time. Right?”

 

A quick inhale. A few seconds, then a long exhale.  _ We're getting somewhere. _

 

“Try counting, okay? Try, like. Counting to four when you inhale, holding for four, then exhaling for four. It'll help you calm down.”

 

“This isn't the first time someone's said I should try that “deep breathing” bullshit, Jug. That's not gonna fix anything.”

 

“Yeah, but it's a starting point. You start with calming down your body and then you can work on calming down your brain.” 

 

“What did I get myself into with you?” Archie groaned and provided Jughead with a facepalm of quality unseen since 2010, but his smile wasn't totally hidden.

 

“I ask myself the same thing every day about you. Too bad, you're stuck with me. Now  _ breathe _ before I start counting for you, I swear I'll do it. I'm getting you through this, Arch.” He wished he could've sounded a little less sincere and loving and more “this-is-business” but what the hell, Archie was gonna hear it from him one way or another. 

 

Archie sighed and exhaled (exactly four seconds, noted) and then inhaled again. 

 

“Yeah. I can't stop thinking about...all that stuff. It's freaking me out. I thought it was good for me at the time but now when I look back on it? I wasn't -- I wasn't ready for any of that. I didn't even think before I did it. That's my problem. I don't think about shit before I do it, and then it messes everything up.”

 

“Hey, you're not alone there. Remember that time I fuckin’ -- I shoved Reggie in the hallway by his backpack and then had to run like a bat out of hell to the bus?”

 

“Yeah, you were like  _ this _ close to dying.” 

 

“Exactly. You might mess stuff up sometimes cause you don't think, but I do it too. Probably everyone's done it more than once. You're never gonna make a mistake that ruins everything. I'd bet on it. No matter what happens, you can fix it. Or you can start working on it.”

 

“Is that what you're trying to do?” 

 

“Start working on it. Not fix it. Things that hurt that much don't get fixed right away, you know that. But I'm gonna get you the help you need, whether you like it or not. That's what you get for being my best friend.”

 

“I'm -- you think I'm your best friend again?”

 

“Archie, come on, man. You never stopped being my best friend. Not really.”

 

Jughead broke his gaze away from his empty plate and snuck a glance across the table, where Archie was running a hand through his hair, looking dazed. 

 

“I should put the rest of these in the fridge or something, they're good pancakes…”

 

“Yeah, you do that, but first, just -- just promise me you'll let me help you, okay? Shake on it.”

 

He stuck out his hand, resting his elbow on the counter to keep it from shaking. Archie fixed him with a disapproving look that could've only been passed down from Fred.  _ Uh oh _ . 

 

“And I thought  _ I _ was the one who bro’d out of every situation. You're my best friend, I'm not gonna shake on it, get in here.” And before he could say anything, Jughead was being surrounded by the patented Archie Andrews Bear Hug and squeezed so hard that tears came out of his eyes.  _ Sure, that's the only reason he's crying. _

 

“Whoa, Arch, I appreciate it...but I think you're crushing my windpipe.” 

 

“ _ That's what you get for being my best friend _ ,” he parroted. 

 

Jughead couldn't believe it, but he was here, laughing, and Archie was hugging him. He let himself relax a little and grabbed onto the hem of Archie's shirt so he wouldn't pass out or travel to another dimension or something. 

 

It'd been a long time since Archie had been willing to touch him. Longer than anything he'd done had warranted, but guilt can hold you back from getting close to _ anyone _ , even if the particular someone was your best friend (and past-maybe-boyfriend). Especially if the guilt was keeping you up at night to remind you how you betrayed them. Especially if everyone around you couldn't stop looking at you out of the corner of their eye like they'd forgotten who you were. 

 

None of what Archie had to deal with had disappeared, but Jughead had wanted a friend more than anything when he was scared to death every day that his home was falling apart. He could be that friend; that piece of home for Archie. He was there to remind him that he wasn't a different person, that he wasn't irresponsible or stupid or selfish for falling for someone so much older than himself: he was a  _ kid _ who had wanted to see the good in everyone and wanted to be wanted so badly that when he got hurt, all he could say was  _ I'm sorry _ . 

 

Jennifer Gibson could be left behind, Jason was buried, the Blossoms were no longer holding the scepter. It could be Jughead and Archie against the world like before: FP’s truck, plenty of music, and a full tank of gas to take them anywhere they wanted to go together. 

  
Now if only they could get the hell out of Riverdale. 


	5. some kind of sensitive

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> a little more coping mechanisms and positivity, i guess. i'm bad at summaries. 
> 
> p.s. your comments are literally what keep this story going if i don't have internal motivation! i love and reply to all of them!
> 
> as always, come find me at vulspine.tumblr.com

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i should warn you that this chapter was written almost entirely with family guy playing in the background. not my choice. if some parts read weirdly incoherently it's because i couldn't actually gather enough of my goldfish attention span to make sure it flowed and stuff.
> 
> also, this isn't exactly the pinnacle of how to interact with a friend who had ptsd. i've been careful to write jughead's interactions with archie from personal experience so they're pretty healthy, but for realism, it can't be perfect. so (not that this was at all likely), if you were using this as a guideline for how to treat someone w/ ptsd, it's not a/bad/ example, but read some professional articles or guidelines or advice online.

His only option left was throwing pebbles at the window. He was -- somehow familiarly -- the picture of Romeo Montague, with his dad’s beat-up green pickup instead of an inheritance, sneaking into Juliet’s house for a secret meetup  -- but he lived there, kind of, and he wasn’t exactly sneaking  _ in _ but more so trying to get Archie to sneak  _ out _ ...and none of this was as romantic as he had planned. It was raining, and he was damp, and his hair looked like shit, and he couldn’t find that many pebbles to throw at Archie’s window. Damn suburbs with all their grass and dirt. Archie’s window slid up, and the top of his head peered out to investigate the noise. 

 

“Oh, it’s you.”

 

“You sound disappointed. Who were you expecting?” He smirked.

 

“Where have you been for the past--” He ducked back inside to check his clock. “--three hours?”

 

“Look, I was doing...that.” He pointed at the truck, shoved haphazardly up to the ceiling of the backseat with blankets and pillows and clothes and everything else he found in the trailer and grabbed in a hurry. 

 

“Dude, it’s one A.M. and you snuck into your dad’s trailer to grab a bunch of random...uh oh. I see where this is going.” Archie managed to sigh loud enough to be heard from outside through the barely-open window. 

 

“Yes, except it’s not really sneaking in if I live -- lived -- there, and now I’m back to sneak into  _ your _ house and try to convince you to run away with me somewhere it’s not raining.”

 

“Jug...”

 

“Did I mention it’s raining? Please let me in. You know I hate being out in the rain. It’s...moist.”

 

“Don’t say ‘moist’.”

 

“Let me in or I’ll start reciting whatever movie I can think of first. And I’m thinking  _ Manos: The Hands of Fate _ .”

 

“Where do you even hear of these? Fine. I’m coming down.”

 

Jughead, not sure that Archie actually believed in his ability to recite horrible science fiction, started reciting. 

 

“ _ We’re almost there, honey, just a little while longer and your vacation starts. _ ” Archie opened the door with a practiced forlorn look. “Oh, thank God, I don’t have to keep going.” Jughead darted in and up the stairs.

 

Five minutes of wrestling off a soaked shirt and pair of jeans later, he sat on the bed next to Archie, wrapped in a towel and looking like an angry wet cat. 

 

“So what’s up with you?” He pretended to have forgotten all about the road trip.

 

“You’ve only been gone three hours.” A tired laugh suggested that he was ready to stop acting mad.

 

“Yeah, but we’ve been in the same room all day. Felt like a while.”

 

“Okay then. I’m pretty alright, I guess. No panic attacks, so my one-day streak is going strong, but it’s not like everything got fixed from us talking about it once.”

 

“Nah, I didn’t think it would. We get to talk about our feelings even more. I know how excited you must be.”

 

“Ha. You know I don’t actually hate it that much, right?”

 

“That’s news to me. Sure  _ seems  _ like you hate it.”

 

“It’s just -- I don’t ever talk about it with my friends. I can talk to my dad about most stuff, but about all of this--” (a wide, sweeping gesture encompassing the Grundy nightmare) “-- _ no one  _ mentions it. I told you about that.”

 

“Yeah.”  Unbeknownst to them, they were staring at the same exact meaningless point on the floor.

 

“I don’t know how to do it. Doesn’t mean I don’t want to try. Even if it’s awkward for both of us, like, every time we talk about it, I’m glad you’re trying too.” More quietly, sounding unsure, he added : “I’m glad you care.”

 

“I do care, and I do want to keep trying for you.  _ With _ you.”

 

Archie moved almost imperceptibly towards him. Jughead edged toward him the same amount, anxiously bit by bit, until he gave in and rested his head on Archie’s shoulder.  _ Like you used to do. _ They knitted into each other slowly; the initial inch between their hips and sides disappeared until Archie reached an arm around Jughead’s waist and pulled him in a little closer. He relaxed shakily and mirrored Archie. 

 

“This is...good. Nice.” His voice sounded small.

 

“Yeah. It is.”

 

“I’ve wanted to ask you this for a couple days.” His calmness hadn’t lasted long. “Is this kind of stuff okay with you?”

 

“I’m not different...like that. I mean, things are different. Obviously. Uh...I’m different ‘cause I might need you to check in with me more, like you just did. I get freaked out sometimes. But it’s not like I don’t care about you...or like you, I just need to be careful. With myself. So we don’t move too fast. So I don’t get out of my comfort zone.”

 

Jughead slowly rubbed small, soothing circles on Archie’s back.

 

Archie continued. “But this is okay. It’s good. You’re good.” Jughead was home again, drying off and warming up with his face buried in the crook of Archie’s neck and shoulder.

 

“Okay.” 

 

The next thing he felt was chilly and a little sore. He blinked hard before looking around and wincing at the twinges in his neck. Contorted on the edge of the bed, wrapped like a burrito in his comforter, was Archie. The sheets were tangled around Jughead’s  legs. Shit, he’d fallen asleep  _ on  _ Archie, and the poor guy had given him all the room he could spare in a bed barely big enough for one person. It must’ve been in a weird position for his neck to be as messed up as it was, too. 

 

Even without anyone to watch him, Jughead threw a hand over his forehead and flopped back onto the pillows in exhaustion and...too many other feelings to name. Ever since he’d been let in the house last night, he’d been thinking about the truck waiting outside in case Archie changed his mind and eventually wanted to leave together.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if you haven't heard of Manos: The Hands of Fate, look it up. you won't regret it. it's one of the most ridiculously awful sci-fi movies ever: the budget was $19k and that's just the first problem, the editing and dubbing are a nightmare. MST3K did a pretty good episode on it if you're interested in that.
> 
> hope you appreciate the completely random references to movies and video games and weird humor in here...being able to write Whatever You Want is a beautiful thing.


	6. follow just to find you

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> it's happening lads

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sorry it's been a few weeks since the last chapter, i just got hit with volunteer training and a new job + family visiting so i've been swamped. this is a short chapter to move the plot along but mostly just let you all know that i'm not going anywhere and this fic isn't just going to sit unfinished in the Internet Void forever. i'm really looking forward to the next few!
> 
> as always, come talk to me at vulspine.tumblr.com !

Sunday morning came cruel and early for Jughead when he was woken up by the sound of hammering on the side of the house. There were, apparently, downsides to Fred being in construction: never-ending house renovations. Any chance of him going back to sleep was lost, and Archie was already downstairs, so Jughead gave in to the promise of coffee in the kitchen making the morning a little less unbearable. 

 

Halfway down the staircase, he heard voices from outside the kitchen, too low to hear. He tiptoed down the hallway to catch some of Archie's conversation with his dad.  Neither of them sounded mad, so it wasn't an argument, but he couldn't make out any actual words until he got closer. 

 

“--been through enough. You two deserve a break. We all do.”

 

“What about--” Archie's voice faded out again as a truck rolled down the alley. 

 

“I'm not saying I advocate for my kid skipping school, but...it wouldn't be the worst thing that happened to this town. Can't imagine you're doing that much work there with everything that's gone down, anyways.”

 

_ Were they talking about the road trip? Shit, _ Jughead thought,  _ the pickup’s out front, of course Fred would've seen it. _

 

He ran back upstairs, making sure to step on the sides of the stairs like he’d done as a kid to keep them from creaking. Archie came up just a few minutes later, which had given him enough time to pull out his laptop and be convincingly engrossed in writing something. He bounded through the doorway like a puppy and all but jumped onto the bed next to Jughead.

 

“My dad says we can go!” Archie’s smile threatened to split his face in half.

 

“Go  _ where _ ? On the trip?” Jughead sloughed his computer off his lap and met Archie’s eyes. 

 

“Yeah, I asked him and he said we need a break and we’ve both been through a lot and he’s happy we’re friends again and we can go!”

 

“Whoa, okay. Hold on. Why the sudden change of heart?”

 

“I dunno, I just kinda woke up and thought about going back to school on Monday or going out with you--”

 

“Um--”

 

“I mean going out on a  _ trip _ with you, okay, first of all. I didn’t realize how sick I was of being here until I actually had a chance to get away for a while. I want to go, I do.”

 

“Works for me.  I’ve been ready to get out of here since--” He checked his wrist for a watch that wasn’t there. “--about last summer.”

 

Archie laughed half-heartedly. They both knew Jughead wasn’t kidding; the summer had been hell for both of them.

 

“The truck’s out front, Arch. We can go whenever you want...but I need food first.”

 

“That works,” Archie laughed. He shook his head, still smiling, and outstretched his hand to rest it on Jughead’s shoulder.

 

“Cool. Let’s go.”


	7. heart-shaped, carefully drawn

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> the last one. i'll go ahead and spoil it...it's a happy ending.
> 
> btw, i've probably spelled several things wrong including archie's name because i don't like looking at the keyboard when i type but i never actually learned to type properly so it's terrible

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> how bout that hiatus son
> 
> wow sorry about abandoning this fic i've been stressing over writing it for a couple weeks but couldnt beat the writers block until my poetry class started whipping me into shape with those daily writings. 25-hour school weeks plus 30-hour work weeks are rough, man, but its finally FINISHED. 
> 
> more stuff in the end notes (hidden because spoilers, okay?!)

The drive was best told in snapshots: wind racing, tires vibrating down the highway, and Archie’s forearms gripping the wheel, Jughead watching the sinew of his muscles ripple as he steered. It was a little hotter than the perfect weather and a little more humid, so Archie’s hair was sticking to his forehead. Jughead was sure his own hair was sweaty and gross under his hat but he didn’t dare take it off to check and risk Archie seeing it. Two hours into driving on an entirely random path (the first route they’d picked out of town), Jughead declared them “lost as shit” and resorted to pulling out an actual ancient map from the side of his seat and navigating as best as he could..

 

Neither of them realized how shittily planned the trip had been until they actually  _ reached _ the beach; sure, Jughead had packed sleeping bags and food and clothing, but any actual tools had been out of his mind. Eating? Sure. But a place to sleep? Apparently not a concern. By pure luck alone, Jughead had never unpacked his supplies from their originally planned summer trip, and thus had Archie’s tiny stove and his own sleeping bag shoved under the backseat. Land-use rules in their state, not that either Jughead or Archie had read up on them, probably forbid camping in the middle of the beach, so they propped up the tent in the back of the pickup, agreeing without actually acknowledging it that they would huddle together at night to fit two people in it. Whether it was the timing -- middle of the school week -- or the season -- humid fall, the beach was luckily only occupied by a few scattered elderly couples and a flock of crows.

 

As soon as they’d parked, Archie ran out across the beach whooping and ran straight into the water with Jughead tentatively walking across the loose sand behind him, hand held over his eyes to watch Archie stop in his tracks and realize that jeans plus standing in the ocean equals discomfort before making a walk of shame back over to Jughead.

 

“Didn’t think that through, huh, pal?”

 

“Shut up.”

 

“Damn, looks like you’ll  just have to take your pants off. No way around it. Gotta disrobe.” He snorted.

 

Archie shoved him and jogged awkwardly back to the truck to change into swim trunks. Jughead stayed in place, watching the flock of crows flutter and settle back down to peck at each other’s feathers, chirping quietly. A little beyond the crows’ claimed territory there was a dock that, despite being empty and rickety, looked like the perfect place to sit and ruminate together like their true teen-movie-road-trip narrative would dictate. 

 

“Hey, Arch! Come on, I’m going down to the dock before the crows steal it and set up their own civilization, come down ‘ere when you change!”

  
  


Although it took him longer than it should’ve to find a swimsuit (Jughead had packed the truck up quickly and not very neatly), Archie ran back down to meet him as the sun was catching them both off guard, setting earlier than usual in accordance with the changing seasons and reflecting yellow off the gentle waves.

 

“People used to think this was the edge of the world, y'know.” Hand covering his eyes, staring off the dock, he and Jughead were the perfect picture of captains of a grand vessel exploring the world. 

 

“Some still do. Flat-Earthers.”

 

“Jesus.”

  
  


Half an hour later, they'd ignored the steadily dropping temperature and waded in up to their chests by the dock where Archie was trying and failing to splash water at Jughead who was...shivering, hoping they had brought blankets in the truck.

 

Archie turned to look at him and for a second it was hard to breathe. He looked like the charioteer of the sun in the evening glow, water running down his chest and wet hair knocking Jughead’s breath out of him like he'd jumped into the Arctic Sea instead of wading in nervously. Archie  _ was _ the New World in and of himself, now that they were at last out of a town that had suffocated him and into a limbo where the two of them could coexist.

 

“You know, Jug, I kinda get where those Flat-Earthers are coming from. From right here, this could be the edge of the world for all we know. Look…it's just me and you and the whole ocean and the sunset. It's the most amazing thing I've ever seen.”

 

Archie probably wasn't joking. 

 

_ You're the most amazing thing I've ever -- _

 

Jughead hadn't realized he was staring until Archie laughed nervously and cocked his head to the side. “You okay there?”

 

“I'm…yeah.” The right words weren't coming. He waded out further until they were only a few inches apart, looking out at the same view, ocean blinding them not quite enough to be annoying. The water was still unforgivably numbing but that feeling he'd had before -- when Archie sat close enough that their legs were touching, when they'd brushed hands for just long enough -- was back. Warmth melted down his spine and into his legs, anchoring him in place.

 

“Archie,” Jughead barely murmured. He inhaled, thinking  _ one two three four one two three four  _ and stood on his tiptoes to cup his face in his hands and  _ finally _ pressed their lips together. Immediately, Archie's hand wound its way into his hair to keep him there until they broke apart for air, resting their foreheads together. They leaned back in together without a second thought, Archie's hands or the waves or both pulling Jughead in to press against his chest and anchor them together as they felt each other smile. He tasted salt from Archie's lips and maybe a little sand but nothing short of a tsunami could pry them apart -- not when he could finally run his hands down Archie's chest, fingers feeling the muscles of his stomach, and wrap his arms around his waist like he'd been waiting for since the summer. The sun was halfway submerged in the horizon by the time they finally broke apart long enough to speak.

 

“So. Where are we going next?” Looking into Archie’s eyes was still kind of blinding, but he tried to bear it for the sake of the moment. 

 

“You mean we can’t stay at the beach forever?”

 

“Man, I wish. School beckons...but we have at least a few more days until your dad starts threatening us.”

 

“Pfft. I dunno if he’ll wait that long. I think he’s depending on me to haul his concrete.”

 

“Whatever, he can wait,” Jughead paused, trying to think of how to phrase this: “How is...everything? With you? How are you?”

 

“With  _ everything _ ? That’s a whole lot to think about, Jug, jeez. Narrow it down a little.”

 

“Alright, smartass, how is your...anxiety...and...panic attacks and stuff? Flashbacks.”

 

“I...Maybe a little better. It’s not like I can snap my fingers and make them all better, neither can you, but I can breathe a little bit easier now that I’m not thinking about all that awful shit everywhere I look. Not everything reminds me of it now.”

 

“That’s good, right?”

 

“It’s really good. It’s better than I thought it would get.”

 

“Better than I thought it would get, too. I’m proud of you for actually trying, you know that?”

 

“That’s sappy.”

 

“I know.”

 

“I’m glad you tried too. ‘M glad you didn’t give up, even though I was such an asshole to you.”

 

“Oh, please, I knew something was wrong when  _ you _ of all people started being an asshole. It’s just not in your nature. Being an equal asshole to you and annoying you until you let me help you was the only way I could actually do anything.”

 

“Wow, thanks, I take that back about you being sappy.”

 

“Eh, you know what I mean. I wanted to help. Behind that tough-guy look you’re giving me I know you’re a sap too.”

 

“Maybe.”

 

“Yes, you are.”

 

“Fine. Only for you.”

 

“Of course.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> fun fact: i wrote the kiss scene after like chapter 3, i was so ready for these boys to get together and catch a break.
> 
> if i didn't already say so, the title of this poem is from "a map of the world" by ted kooser, which i saw posted on the wall of a nyc subway and immediately planned out like half of the fic inspired by it. the first few chapters were written in various furniture stores and megabuses (megabusi?) and the last few were on an actual computer.
> 
> thank you all so much for reading and giving me feedback. this has been an emotional rollercoaster and i loved writing every word of it, even guilting myself because intense writers block was trying to Forbid me. 
> 
> come talk to me at vulspine.tumblr.com and i'm sure i'll see you all again soon with another fic. :')


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